


To Be Seen

by Guessimritingficsagain



Category: Triple Frontier (2019)
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29904693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guessimritingficsagain/pseuds/Guessimritingficsagain
Summary: Usually, you’d be babysitting your friend Jessie’s daughter but you had to come into work. Your colleagues are really excited because “the boys” are here, so you get the chance, for the first time, to see what the fuss is about. You probably need to get laid.
Relationships: Francisco "Catfish" Morales/Reader, Francisco "Catfish" Morales/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be a four or five chapter story, not clear on that yet. Frankie isn’t here much but the endgame is Frankie x Reader. This chapter is really here to set up the reader’s relationships and workplace.

« Yup, they’re here, » confirmed Anna, with a wink in Jessie’s direction, before she closed the kitchen’s door and went back to wait on the patrons. You were confused for a moment, but Jessie was jumping up and down in the small space, almost knocking over a bunch of plates she had been cleaning just before. She was _vibrating_ with excitement.

« You’re finally going to see what the fuss is about ! » She all but screamed. It dawned on you, then.

_The boys._

So, here’s the story : once in a while, always on a Saturday, four dudes come in, sit down, drink a few beers, chat for a bit and call it a night. There used to be five, apparently, but one of them must have been kicked out of the group, according to Jessie. One of them is usually a little banged up - always the same. One of them always makes a point to flirt with whoever is waiting on them but it’s harmless. They tip well. Nothing special, right ? Except apparently, they’re _hot_. And Jessie juggles with this job and the kid, and she’s on her own, has been for a while now, so it is a big deal. Apparently.

You’d been a bit worried with all the fuss she made about those guys, but then you remembered that her last date had been months ago and had ended with her coming home in tears, self-depreciating bullshit spilling out of her mouth, about her life, her failed mariage, the state of her car and _the way she drank beer instead of wine and she shouldn’t because wine is more refined._  
So. You’d been worried. But you figured that nothing seemed wrong with those men, and that a little fantasy was harmless and sometimes needed.

You’d never had first-hand experience with the four guys, though. You worked every other Saturday night but Jessie and you had an agreement with your boss, so you could babysit her kid the Saturday she worked since she couldn’t afford to pay someone. This Saturday, though, you had to make do and find someone to mind Clara because Phil, the cook, was sick and someone needed to replace him.

You couldn’t cook for shit and Jessie could, so she was in the kitchen, you tended the bar and Anna waited on the patrons. You let her friend get a well-deserved sneak-peek at the table before you made your way back to the counter, making an off-hand, harmless remark that she needed to get laid as you walked through the door. Once you got behind the counter, you took a deep breath and looked around.

_Time to see what all the fuss is about._

  
The place wasn’t overly crowded for a Saturday evening, but it was still early. You spotted the table pretty easily. It was one a bit away from the others, isolated, separated from most of the room by the pool but far enough from it not to be disturbed by the players and-

Oh.

_Oh._

Maybe you needed to get laid, too.

———

You were staring. You knew you were staring. _Hard_. But then again who on earth allowed those four men to look that good. Men should _never_ look that good. Men that looked that good were trouble. And three of them _definitely_ looked like trouble. It was written in the way they sat, like they were at home and not in a public space with _other people_ , legs spread wide, radiating confidence. The last one, the one with a cap on his head, was on the shyer side, but still-

 _Trouble_.

  
Here’s the thing. That dating thing, that wasn’t on your mind. You gave it a shot a few years back. You’d met her in college, and when you’d both ended up with an art history degree that proved to be useless, you’d moved in together, and you’d tried to open a bookshop that crashed and burned in less that two years, and all of your savings with it. Something had cracked in your relationship, then, and you’d both tried to fix it because you’d had a _good thing_. The break-up hadn’t been ugly, but mending both your broken hearts had taken time. You still called each other from time to time, true to your last promise : _when things get easier, let’s not be strangers_. It had been her - Linda - who had said it. You hadn’t had the heart, then. Now, five years later, you were glad she had.

Five years later, you found yourself back in your home state, bartending on a Saturday night, that art history degree still useless but no longer leaving a sour taste in your mouth, a bitter sense of waste of time and money. You hadn’t had a date in three years - he had been nice, really pretty, you’d dated for a while but he’d wanted to become a big Wall Street boy and you just weren’t into that. It might be time to reconsider getting laid if you couldn’t look at a bunch of hot dudes without your brain turning to jelly, though.

Somebody cleared of throat right in front of you and you snapped out of it, apologizing before getting the man’s order, good that his presence would prevent you from drifting away too much. Then the rush came, and you forgot about the table for a while.

———

When Anna came back to give you a bunch of orders, she did so with an eyebrow slightly raised in expectation. You knew she wanted your feedback on that table, but you didn’t want to agree with Jessie and her, so you shrugged in a way you hoped looked casual and unaffected. She saw right through your bullshit.

« Fine », you whispered. « They’re hot. _Hot_. »

The patron at the barstool turned his head towards you and you felt your face burn. So much for whispering. Anna only laughed, head tilted back, her blonde hair waving as laughter shook her body. She was 25, beautiful in a traditional way. She was genuinely nice, and always saw the good in people. She was to this world what Jane was to _Pride and Prejudice_.

Which is why, when the man sitting on the barstool leaned and said to her :

« You’re a pretty one, too. »

She just smiled and thanked him. Of course, he had to take that as an invitation. This could have been the beginning of a very beautiful story if not for the fact that he was old enough to be his father, knew it, didn’t care, and that this beer obviously wasn’t his first one. You hadn’t noticed when he first sat down but now that he had leaned in, you could smell it. He reeked of alcohol.

« Wanna grab a drink sometimes ? See where that leads us ? »

Anna politely declined, and made to leave, but he grabbed her arm. You could tell it wasn’t meant to hurt her, just to hold her back, to prevent her from leaving, but you felt yourself tense.

« Sir, » you said in a tone you hoped sounded firm and steady, « I’m going to ask you to leave my colleague alone. »

He turned his head towards you and Anna took the opportunity to free herself from his grasp. She looked at you a second, a silent question _(are you gonna be okay ?_ ), and seemingly satisfied by your slight nod, she took off.

« You’re not bad yourself, you know. »

Steeling yourself, you turned to the patron.

« This is inappropriate and I’m not interested, Sir. »

But the man was relentless. When you said no for the third time he started muttering to himself, something about women all being bitches to him. You were getting really tense, and looked around to see where Anna was. She was at the boys’ table, watching you. Actually, the whole table was watching you as one of the men - the beat up one, your mind registered - was walking your way with purpose.

— ——

You were staring again, you realized. The man had taken a barstool too, right in front of you, and was waiting for you to say something. Probably a sentence. A coherent sentence.

« Hi, what can I get you ? »

Nice. One word at a time. You could do it.

« Nothing, I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Benny. »

He offered his hand. You took it. He was all sharp angles and there was something wild and dark in his eyes, but he had a nice, warm smile. Your hand seemed tiny in his. After a beat, you told him your own name. He gestured behind him, towards the table, still looking your way.

« My pals over there and I were wondering if you were new. Never saw you around. »

« I’m not. I guess I’m not around when you guys are. »

« That’s what your colleague said. »

_Bullshit._

  
He knew you saw right through it, and you tried to convey the fact that you appreciated the gesture without saying anything too obvious. There was no doubt that Benny would have no problem getting physical with the other guy at the counter if needed. But the man in question was standing awfully still, like he got the same vibe off of Benny you did. He’d stopped muttering and was looking very intently at his bottle. Benny kept going, and you soon saw what he was doing. He slightly turned and pointed towards his friends. You noticed Anna had gone back to work.

« See the blonde guy over there ? That’s my idiot of a brother, Will. Guy with the cap is Frankie. Last one is Pope. »

You raised your eyebrows at that.

« Pope ? »

« Sorry, force of habit. His name is Santiago. Santi for short. We used to serve, Pope was his call sign, and I guess it stuck. »

He shrugged, keeping the conversation light, but the mention of four ex-military casually sitting there and checking on you was enough for the other patron. He got up and left without a word. Your sigh of relief didn’t go unnoticed.

« Santi saw something was off a while back with that guy, when he grabbed your colleague … »

« Anna », you automatically corrected.

« When he grabbed Anna, » Benni obliged. « She confirmed when she came to take our orders. »

« Thank you. »

You were used to dealing with that kind of stuff, but it was nice to have back-up, especially when the usual one wasn’t there. Normally, you’d go to Phil in the kitchen, but today, Jessie wouldn’t have been much of a match against a drunk guy would wanted some. Jessie, who was standing, you saw, right outside the kitchen door, gaping at you.

« I never got your order », you stated, turning your attention back to Benny.

He gave it again and you smiled.

« It’s on the house. »

———

« So _his_ name is Benny. The blonde one, Will. That’s his brother. Then Santiago and Frankie. »

« Yes but which one is Santiago and which one is Frankie ? » all but whined Jessie.

You were closing the place. Anna wasn’t saying anything but you could tell she was listening intently.

« A bit too old for you, aren’t they ? » You quipped.

She just laughed.

« No harm in looking. »

She was right. No harm. Meanwhile Jessie, arms waiving all around, complained :

« How come I tried to get their attention for weeks and something happens the first time you see them ? »

« Yeah, it was a _real pleasure_ to get harassed. I made sure it happened for the attention. All part of a very good plan. »

« Oh come on, » she shoved you playfully « you know what I mean. »

The parking lot was empty. The cool air around you was quiet except for the occasional sound of a car going down the street nearby. The three of you fell silent, walking to Anna’s car. You kept silent during the drive, too, exhaustion settling in your bones. You knew you were lucky : tomorrow was your day off. Neither Anna nor Jessie had that chance. You’d be sleeping on Jessie’s couch tonight, just so you could babysit Clara. Your foggy brain betrayed you, then, and a bad thought came to you like a stab in the back :

_When was the last time you saw a movie ? Went to an exhibit ?_

  
You buried it, like you did every time you reminded yourself you were not where you thought you’d be at your age. When Anna pulled over in front of Jessie’s house, you thanked her and waited, silent again, as Jessie thanked her babysitter, winced as she paid her - you knew that was not something she could afford - and went to check on her sleeping girl. You were making yourself at home, preparing the couch for the night, thoughts of Benny and other hot dudes, ex-military guys entirely forgotten when you heard, soft and broken :

« I know it’s silly. This whole thing. I just … I wish someone would look at me, you know. »

`

Jessie was standing in her living room, lost and desperate. You stopped, right then. The bags under her eyes were dark. She wasn’t going to cry, you knew that. The way she spoke, with finality, like she was convinced no one would look at her ever again, made your exhausted body tremble with anger. You closed the space between the two of you and held her for a while.

Later, as you were plugging your phone, you saw a text from Linda.

_Hey, just checking on you. Everything good, these days ? Saw that French movie you told me about. It’s great ! Seen it yet ? I know you were excited. Don’t be a stranger ;)_

  
You thought back on Jessie’s words. Somebody, at some point, had looked at you. Had seen you for who you were and had embraced every one of your qualities and your flaws. You didn’t miss it. It didn’t hurt anymore. But you remembered how beautiful it had been. Jessie’s marriage was never like that, from what you could tell. If you picked up the phone right now and called Linda, she would be there for you. If Jessie picked up the phone, all she’d get would be a reminder that her ex-husband had changed his number and couldn’t be reached in any way.

You were lucky, you realized with a sharp sense of guilt.

You were lucky that you’d had that, with Linda. And you were even luckier that you didn’t need anyone to look at you. You didn’t need anyone to see you for who you were.

You didn’t.

You _didn’t_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You somehow get closer to the boys, as an old acquaintance shows up.

Life went on, and despite the occasional stories Jessie told you - she had a _favorite_ now, Will, and you could see why - Benny and his friends became a distant memory. Then, September came along, and with it, preschool for Clara. That meant changes for you too. You’d take mostly night shifts at the bar, now, just so Jessie could work while Clara was at school and spend her evenings with her. Mildred, the other mom on the team, was already working days. But yeah, your babysitting days ? They were mostly over. Once you got Jessie through her little meltdown because her babygirl was growing _so fast_ , it felt _weird_ to have your life back to yourself. You found out you were _giddy._

There was so much to do and see, and you had a regular schedule now. You didn’t stop to think about the fact you hadn’t had a holiday in ages, which is why it came as a surprise when you basically _slept_ through most of the days the first two weeks.

You admitted as much to Jessie, one Sunday evening, sitting on her porch, sipping a beer as you both watched Clara play with a small red truck. Jessie made fun of you for that, but, after a beat, quietly admitted :

« It feels _good._ I feel like I have more time for myself. I can rest, you know ? Things are … better, I guess. »

Right then, with the sun slowly coming down, the world a soft shade of orange, and Clara babbling right in front of you, you understood what she meant. Neither of you moved, even after you’d both finished your beers. You fell into easy chatter, until Clara showed signs of exhaustion.

When you headed home, it was dark, but it felt good not to have to sleep on Jessie’s couch anymore.

———

You were _sweating._

You were sweating and Anna was running around like she was Usain freaking Bolt and the young man the boss had finally hired to help in the kitchen was not helping in the kitchen _at all_ because there was so many patrons he was needed in the main room. You thanked the deities Phil was very good at what he was doing because you were truly understaffed here.

And also : not used to it.

The fact that you’d previously not worked every Saturday evening meant you hadn’t quite had to go through that particular circle of hell.

And then, as soon as it started, the rush was over. Not that people had left, but suddenly, you could catch a break. Anna came back next to you, behind the counter and just _slumped_ on the wall, next to the coffee machine.

« Good job, handling that. » smiled Santiago from his perch on the other side of the counter. He’d come in a bit earlier, alone. That had raised questions from Anna, even though you figured she was now too tired to even _care_ that he was here. Jessie would be _ashamed_ of both of you. You nodded, as you saw Phil come out of the kitchen and walk towards you. He sent Anna on a break with a pat on her shoulder, took her spot against the wall and mumbled to you, quiet enough so that Santiago or other patrons couldn't hear :

« We really need to talk to the boss about that. »

You nodded again - you weren’t quite sure your mouth was still working. It had to, though, because you spotted Benny, his brother and the other guy - Frankie, you remembered - walking in. The kid ( _whatsisnameagain?_ ) walked hurriedly towards them but they gestured towards the counter, leaving him to watch the room anxiously, trying to spot if anyone needed anything. Out of politeness - or rather, because it was your damn _job_ \- you asked Santiago if they needed a table. He shrugged. You chose to take it as a _no._ You smiled in greetings at the new patrons, and Benny exclaimed :

« You’re back ! »

« Yeah. I’m back. »

As you were about to push yourself from the coffee machine you had left yourself slump on, Phil’s hand went to your shoulder and he whispered, quiet again :

« Go take a break, I’ll handle it. »

You frowned.

« Phil, they’re not … »

« That’s not why I’m telling you to take a break. You’re trembling. Go for a walk, have a smoke, something. »

You made a gesture towards the coffee machine.

« _That_ , though, is off limits, » growled Phil. « No coffee. Go. »

You watched as he pushed himself from the wall and asked their orders. Then, admitting your defeat, you left through the backdoor and let the cool air ease your mind. You fished for a cigarette and spotted Anna, sitting right on the ground, sipping tea.

« So, he’s hot. »

« Who ? » you asked.

« Santiago. »

« Too old for you. » you reminded her.

She turned to you and wiggled her eyebrows. You countered :

« Meh, not my type. »

And that was true. He was hot in a way that made him _inapprochable_. You didn’t go for guys like that. Though, you thought about the fact that both Anna and Jessie were still obsessed with theses guys after _months_ and that you were playing along and you groaned.

« We need to get a life. »

Anna simply hummed. She let her head fall on your shoulder, just for a bit. You finished your cigarette and tapped her thigh.

_Time to get back to work._

_———_

« So, she’s gone then, your friend ? »

You had just handed a beer to Will when he asked. It was a thing, now : when the place was too crowded, they’d sit at the counter instead of taking a table. It didn’t happen every time, but enough that you’d had to make small talk once in a while. That, though, was new.

Benny and Frankie were in deep conversation and Santiago was -

_Ah._

Santiago was _not_ going home alone, tonight.

« My friend ? »

« You know, the lady that tended the bar on Saturday nights, before. »

You shook your head.

« Nah, but her kid started preschool so we had to make arrangements. She works during the day, now. »

« Preschool ? That makes her kid about as old as Frankie’s kid, then. Hey Fish ! Didn’t your kid start preschool too ? »

That got Frankie’s attention and you winced. You _actively_ tried not to talk too much to Frankie. Or to look at him too much. There was something about him, about the way he fumbled with his cap, about the curls of his hair, about his eyes and his hands. Something _soft._

(So yeah, you’d _looked_ a lot, but you couldn’t help yourself.)

Will went on about Jessie’s kid, preschool, and you caught the name of the little girl - Maria. Frankie, never the talker, was nodding, a kind smile on his face. You explained how Jessie freaked out at first, how it had changed a lot of things for both of you. Benny asked :

« For you too ? »

You realized that you had said too much. Jessie probably didn’t want some random strangers she had a crush on to know she was a single mother struggling and _you_ didn’t want them to know the only life you had revolved around Jessie and her kid. You tried to keep your answer as evasive as possible.

« I’m around a lot. Friends, right ? »

The two brothers nodded, smiles a bit too tight on their face. Frankie was looking at his beer bottle. There was something there, something you didn’t quite catch but it felt like you had just said the wrong thing. Trying to light up the room, you asked if any of them wanted a refill. Frankie fished for something in his pocket.

« Actually » he started, « I should head home. »

But before he could get his wallet out, Santiago appeared out of thin air, right behind him, grabbed him by the shoulder and said :

« He’s gonna have another one. All of us actually. Drinks on me. »

The two brothers cheered at that, even though Benny said something about Santiago being full of shit about paying. Frankie complied at his friend’s request and stayed. As you were handing out the refills, you saw Will and Santiago exchange a look as the latter sat back down with his friends. Turning around, you took a look at the woman he had been flirting with and wondered if things didn’t work out, in the end, though you somehow doubted it.

When you handed Frankie his drink, he smiled, showing a single dimple. You made the mistake of looking into his eyes and something in your belly grew warm. You felt like you were wrapped up in a blanket, on a rainy day, watching _Laggies_ and drinking hot chocolate, your cat Starbuck sleeping in your lap. You couldn’t help but smile back, even though you _knew_ you were screwed. Not for the first time, you were glad for the safety of the counter, though usually it was because it protected you from unsavory patrons. Right now, though, without it, you didn’t know what you would’ve done. Leaned in a bit, maybe ? You were _sure_ he smelled good.

You turned around quickly and busied yourself, trying not to think about how Frankie _smelled._

_What was wrong with you ?_

_———_

You finally managed to get that movie Linda had told you about, or rather : that movie you had told Linda about but never got around to watch it and in the end she had watched it before you could. You’d been grocery shopping when you’d seen the DVD and you’d taken that as a sign from the universe itself because _why on earth would that small French movie be on display here ?_

So you’d taken it.

You were about to press play when you got a text from Linda herself. It was a selfie. She hadn’t changed much, you noticed. Her hair was slightly shorter, and she wore glasses now, but she looked almost the same as she did five years ago. You were so focused at the relief you felt at not feeling anything but _fondness_ that it took you a minute to recognize where she was. A second text popped up :

_Was hoping to catch you !_

She was at the bar. You thought for a second, there. It was your day off, and you were not in the mood to go back to your workplace for a drink. But Linda was there, _hoping to catch you_ , so you got up anyway, turned off the TV, put your shoes on and walked through the door.

The thing was : everything with her had always been easy. So you didn’t feel nervous going there. You didn’t give a second thought to the way you were dressed, or what the two of you could talk about. You were slightly curious, though, as to why she was here.

The bar was slightly crowded, but nothing big for a Thursday. You spotted her immediately and navigated your way through the tables to get to her when you spotted a sign that made you stop in your tracks and _snort._

_Santiago was flirting with her._

You watched for a few seconds, and closed the distance with the table, eager to put Linda out of her misery.

« You know, Santiago, one of these days, you’ll get an harassment suit on your ass. » you joked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He playfully shrugged your hand off, and said :

« Nah, I understand it when I’m not wanted. No means no and shit, you know. _But_ , one of these days, I’ll get you to call me Santi. Only my mother calls me Santiago. »

You snorted again. Clearly, if he was still hitting on the _raging lesbian_ that was Linda, his radar was _way off_.

« Well, _back off_ , Santiago. That’s my seat. »

« Oh. Girls’ night. I see. Well, I’ll leave you two ladies to it. »

He still extended his hand to Linda, who’d been watching with a small smile on her face.

« Lovely meeting you, Linda. If you ever wanna grab a drink. »

« You’re not my type, _Santi_. »

She shook his hand anyway. And then, it was just the two of you, together. There was a pause, there, as you smiled at each other before Linda got up and wrapped her arms around you. As you took a sit, you figured it was going to be a _good_ night.

———

« And _then,_ Starbuck tried to jump in the closet, missed and fell on my mom who _screamed_ like she’d seen a ghost. »

Linda was laughing so hard you worried for a minute she would choke. You’d both moved to the counter. Once the the kitchen was closed, Phil had joined you. When she had recovered from the story, Linda quipped :

« I can’t believe you called your cat _Starbuck_. You’re such a nerd. »

Seeing Phil didn’t get it, she explained :

« It’s a callsign in _Battlestar Galactica_ , the TV show. Starbuck is her favorite character. When I met her, she kept saying stuff like _« what do you hear ? Nothing but the rain »._ Sometimes she would listen to that bloody song for days, over and over, drove my crazy. »

« Hey, » you protested with mock indignation. « _All along the watch tower_ is a classic. »

« Guess we found your callsign, then. »

You turned around to see Frankie smiling at you. He greeted Phil with a handshake as you, trying really hard not to get flustered, introduced him to Linda. The way she looked at you, you knew you hadn’t fooled her. There would be _questions_.

« Could I talk to you for a second ? I know you’re not working right now but it’s kinda important. »

He lifted his cap and ruffled his hair a bit.

« No, it’s fine. Guys, I’m going for a smoke », you told Linda and Phil.

Before leaving, you pointed a finger at Linda and threatened :

« Do _not_ tell Phil any compromising stories. »

« No promises. »

Frankie kinda _grabbed_ your elbow, then, to guide you outside. Nothing much, barely a touch but you felt like your skin was _buzzing_. You were tapping your fingers on the side of your thigh and your hands were a bit unsteady as you tried and lit your cigarette. You hoped he didn’t notice. The way he said _here, let me_ and took the lighter from your hands showed you he did, but he didn’t say anything about it.

« Listen, » he started, a hand in his hair again, « the boys and me, we were wondering … I mean, tonight we’re kinda … we … »

He stopped and let the noise of the street wash over the two of you. You’d never seen him like that, and you didn’t know what to do about it. Hell, you’d never been _alone_ with him. After a while, he took a deep breath and :

« A friend of us died last year, on this day. »

You probably stopped breathing. Whatever you had been expecting, that wasn’t it.

« And so, well, the thing is : he has a daughter. She’s gonna turn 17 in a month or so and well, let’s just say that for a number of reasons, we’re not gonna be invited to the birthday party. So we were wondering if, you know, since we like this place … »

« Frankie, » you stopped him, a hand shooting up on his arm to steady him as much as yourself because this was _a lot of information._ « Yes, you can celebrate her birthday here. Just make a reservation and if you want a special cake, ask Phil. »

He sighed, rubbed a hand on the back of his neck as his eyes fell on your hand. You removed it, and took a drag from your cigarette.

« Sorry, I probably didn’t need to tell you all of this but tonight, it’s … It’s a lot. »

You simply nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. What could you even say in that kind of moment ? You’d lost a grand-father, a few years back, and a great-grand mother sometime after but you never had to grieve a friend. And, a bit like that moment a few weeks ago when everybody grew awfully silent when you mentioned you were around for Jessie, you wondered what it meant that _we’re not gonna be invited for the birthday party._

It was easy to forget they were ex-military, mostly because they never talked about it. You talked about Benny’s fights mostly, and, on that _one_ occasion, about Frankie’s daughter, but you knew nothing about them, you realized. That’s what made that little fantasy thing you had going both with Anna and Jessie possible. But suddenly you had a sneak peek at something so very _personal_ you didn’t quite know how to handle it. You didn’t quite know what it _meant_.

On a whim, desperate to lighten whatever that was, you asked :

« How’s Maria ? »

His head shot up at that. His smile was blinding.

« She’s _perfect._ »

You finished your cigarette, then, and allowed Frankie to take you by the elbow again. Before he let go, he squeezed and said, eyes heavy behind the hood of his cap :

« Thank you … Starbuck. »

This time, his smile was teasing and your own laughter couldn’t be contained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, I don't really know where I'm going with this but the French movie is definitely Portrait of a Lady on Fire by Céline Sciamma. 
> 
> The movie I'm referring to is a movie by late Lynn Shelton (and I'm still so sad that she's gone from this world).
> 
> Thanks for the kudos, y'all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The birthday party comes and goes. You're pining but get a grim reminder that Frankie has a daughter (and a spouse ?). You want to take a step back from that blooming relationship but things don't go according to plan. You want to surprise Jessie with a nice present.

There _had_ been questions. Linda had grilled you hard and actually told you to go for it. It felt nice, all of it, up until you’d asked Linda why she was here. She'd grown sheepish.

« I need a new start. A change of pace. And I- I _miss you,_ not, you know, like _that,_ but I miss my friend, and I figured a new start with an old friend, that could be nice. »

You’d nodded, wondering if there was something she was not telling you, but figuring she’d get to it in her own time. In the meantime, she was _here._ And it was _nice._ She got along immediately with both Jessie and Anna and could make Phil laugh like no one else. Still, there were things that you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her. You two had a history, just like you had with Jessie and Anna, but not the same kind and five years was a long time not to see each other.

That’s why you waited until Linda was playing with Clara to tell Jessie, quietly :

« That fifth guy who used to hang out with the boys ? »

Jessie looked surprised. She was usually the one fishing for information. You knew why you were telling her that : to share the epiphany you had, to remind her, and yourself, that these men were real people. And maybe, just maybe, to remind her in a way that there was a real world out there.

« He’s dead. »

The air grew quiet at that. You looked at her face. She nodded, juste the once. And then, never brought the boys up the way she used to. She asked for news, once in a while, but never again in the giddy way she used to do it.

———

Right. So maybe, _maybe,_ you’d gone a little overboard with that birthday party, but the kid had lost her father a year ago and she deserved _nice things._

Right ?

They didn’t have to know the bar didn’t actually own fancy, festive plates and an army of balloons. Besides, everybody had pitched in. And Phil had made an extra nice menu. It’d been a team effort, really. Except that when Linda came in to grab a coffee after work - she was working at the local bookstore and _that_ made your heart clench a little - she raised her eyebrows and said :

« You said seventeen, right ? Because I think you’re going for seven, here. »

So. You were a bit nervous, which, _what the hell ??_ They weren’t your _friends_. They were paying consumers. Except you were fooling yourself there because you were pretty sure that _paying consumers_ didn’t quite cover it.

But when Santi came in with her, the girl _swallowed_ by a huge scarf to protect her from November’s chilly air, you saw the smile on her face, you knew it’d been worth it. Santi actually came and hugged you and whispered « thank you, Starbuck » before giving Anna a high-five.

Yeah, the Starbuck thing had stuck. And you might have started calling Santiago Santi.

You were introduced to the birthday girl -Sarah- who was lovely and perhaps, you realized quickly, a tiny bit smitten with Anna, in a _when-I-grow-up-I-wanna-be-her_ kind of way. Anna, of course, was completely oblivious. They sat down at the counter first, waiting for their friends to get here, her with a coke, him with a beer, and you were content to just let them be. It was a moment you felt was too private for your tentative relationship.

Sarah hugged Frankie as he came in and you did _not_ let your mind wonder what it would feel like. Beers to serve. Mind out of the gutter. But he came to find you, and he looked at you with those soft eyes and he leaned in a bit and you couldn’t help but smile. And he smiled back, elbows on the counter, _so close._

« You didn’t have to do all that. »

His voice was barely a whisper, and you answered the same way :

« I know. »

He was looking at you like he was _seeing_ you and you got that warm feeling again, at the center of your belly. There was nothing, for a few seconds, except his brown eyes, until Anna cleared her throat and you were reminded you were at work. You turned back to get a beer for Frankie, but were interrupted again by a hand on your arm. Anna was looking at you and asked, as quietly as possible :

« What was that ? »

Her eyes were kind, there was no teasing in her voice but you shrugged the question off anyway. You didn’t know what that was. And it wasn’t the time nor the place.

———

The birthday party had been a success, and the night would have been perfect if not for Phil’s pragmatism. He _knew_ you, he _could tell_ , and your little admission a while back, when under the fire of Linda’s questioning that _maybe_ you had a _tiny little crush_ hadn’t fooled him.

Oh, the mortifying ordeal of being _known._

He’d came up to you when you’d been cleaning the coffee machine and he’d said :

« He has a _kid_ , you know that. »

He’d left it at that, knowing it was enough.

And that was just the thing, right : you _knew._ And with kids usually came a spouse. He probably had a lovely one, someone pretty and smart and funny and soft just like he was. So you’d decided to take some emotional distance, just to keep it professional. Paying costumers, after all.

Of course you were fooling yourself, you were _protecting_ yourself from something that had the possibility to _break you heart._ And that, that was the worst part, the scary part, because you remembered vividly not thinking about Linda _that way_ and then she’d said _I like you, I really like you, you know, in a way that makes me want to make out with you._ And you’d realized you liked her in a way that made you want to make out with her too. Back then the closet had been a thing, a hard one to get out of, even though your parents loved you unconditionally, no matter how many tattoos they disapproved of covered your body, no matter who you dated. You just hadn’t realized what you’d felt for her until she’d spelled it out for you. It’d been beautiful and simple and safe.

Here, though, you were _thirsting_ on a man a tiny bit older than you, who had a daughter, who was probably _married._ And you’d been avoiding thinking about that, and he never mentioned _anyone._ But you knew you needed to get a grip on those spiraling feelings.

You needed to refocus, and in doing so, you realized something that filled you with shame and guilt : you’d overlooked Jessie entirely. The Christmas Holidays were coming up and you hadn’t made any plans with her. You’d been so caught up in your world that, for the first time in _years_ , you forgot about her. The fact she worked day shifts and you night shifts now meant that you saw less of each other. And since Linda got here, and the boys were around more, and you didn’t need to babysit Clara as much, you’d seen even less of her.

But you had a _plan._

———

The _plan_ showed up on your doorstep a few days later, greeting you when you opened the door with :

« I hope you _finally_ threw away that ugly couch and that the new one is comfortable. »

Here he stood, in all of his stupid glory : James. Their parents probably had a weird sense of humor to call their first born Jessie and their second one James. Or maybe you had a weird sense of humor for noticing it.

Here’s a bit of a backstory : James was your age, and you’d actually been friends since you were ten. _Attached-to-the-hip_ kind of friends. _I-don’t-care-about-anyone-else_ kind of friends. He used to be your only friend, back then, because he was just _enough._ Jessie, being five years older, had no real interest in you whatsoever so you only befriended her later, when her ass of an ex-husband skipped town and you got a panicked call from James one morning asking if you could help his sister to find a job because she used to be a stay-at-home mom and now she really needed the cash. James couldn’t come home to help her, so you’d had to help Jessie. Not that it’d been a _problem._

And James, James was _spectacular_ in the way he never settled for anything. He’d left home to go to Harvard and then became a bloody _CIA agent_ because why not. Except he hadn’t liked that so he’d _quit the bloody CIA_ and opened a restaurant in Washington. The _President of the United States of America_ ate there, on a r _egular basis_.

(Sometimes, when life got too hard and you got too caught up in your own mind, and you felt you weren’t enough, you wondered why a man like that bothered to skype you twice a month, and one time, drunk and alone on your birthday, you’d left him a voicemail asking him that very thing and he’d given you _so much shit_ for that you never asked again. You were his girl, forever and always.)

So you’d called him, explained the whole Jessie thing, and the guilt that came with it.

Now there he was, ready to hide in your apartment while you got everything set to give your girl Jessie the surprise she deserved.You let Phil and Anna in on the secret that was James, just so he could come to the bar when he wanted and no one would tell Jessie about it.

That’s how you found yourself jumping slightly at the abrupt change of a song, one night at the bar, and you declared, knowing who it was :

« Costumers don’t get to change the music. »

The only answer you got was a laugh. You turned around to see James, bending over the counter to get to the computer, all crinkled eyes and white teeth.

« Don’t tell me you don’t like hearing _Sweet_. » He quipped.

« I like that song », you explained as you secretly rejoiced in hearing the familiar notes. « But that doesn’t mean you get to play anything you want. I know you, you get _too comfortable_. »

He sat down at the bar, a bit away from the boys who were joking and laughing at the counter. Benny had won his fight and got a girl’s number so it was a good night for him, the kind of night you didn’t want to intrude on. Except you wished you could, and that, that was a red flag in itself because usually, when James was around, there was nobody else in the _world_ but you still thought about Frankie, about how you wished you were sitting on the other side of the counter, pressed against him, laughing at whatever it was that had been said. _Paying consumers_ , right ?

You’d been serving beers left and right, only stopping a moment to get another round to the boys when you heard :

« Where the _fuck_ is that French radio playlist ? You know, radio that only plays songs by women, trans and non-binary people ? I know you have one, can’t seem to find it. »

« _James. »_

You turned around. He was standing _behind_ the counter.

« How on earth did you get there ? »

« I jumped. You were busy, didn’t see it. Anyway. That playlist ? There’s some good shit on that. Though we might want to avoid the songs too obviously sexual, right ? »

You let out the biggest sigh. Of course he'd jumped. Of course he’d find that _absolutely_ normal. You waived him away and got to find the playlist.

« I wanna hear Canción sin Miedo. » He added, all but _propped up on the counter._

« Get _down._ Also your accent is _shit._ » You hissed. You complied, though.

As the Mexican song started playing, Will gave you a look.

« That’s Jessie’s brother. » You explained, your voice still a touch exasperated.

« But that’s a _secret_. » James added, still very much sitting on the counter. He smiled and said : « Hi, I’m James. Like Bond. James Bond. Nobody ever saw the two of us in the same room, by the way. »

He _winked_ and you ugly snorted.

———

The noise was overwhelming and the place reeked of beer and sweat but Anna was steering you gently through the crowd and Linda’s hand was grounding, on your shoulder. MMA fights were _not_ your scene but Benny had asked and Anna had said yes before you could get a word in. You’d called Linda in a panic, muttering _you know how I get in crowded spaces_ and she’d offered to come.

You still didn’t know how Anna managed to get your boss to give you _both_ the day off for that but you were glad.

You heard Benny come in more than you saw him, and Anna guided you to the place where Santi, Frankie and Will were. Santi made a jab at Linda, who laughed it off and introduced herself at the others. She was blending in with ease, as always. You, though, felt _lost,_ until you sensed someone right next to you. Lifting your head, you saw Frankie hand you a drink, before his hand came and gently grabbed your arm, guiding you to a sit right next to him.

« You okay ? » he asked in your ear, close enough that you could feel his breath, his hand still on your arm.

You explained right in his own ear :

« Crowed spaces. »

You felt his hand give a squeeze and, without thinking, tapped his thigh in a way you hoped would convey your thanks. Then, you held onto your drink for dear life, as Benny started beating the shit out of the other guy.

———

Benny was breaking down his fight, as the other men pitched in with a comment, once in a while. You hadn't exactly enjoyed the fight, but Frankie's presence and explanations had made the whole thing better. You drew the line, though, at debriefing, so you turned to Linda :

« So, how was your date ? »

« Nice. »

« _Nice ?_ Just _nice_? But she was bloody _gorgeous._ You showed me pictures ! »

You weren’t as quiet as you thought you were because next think you knew, Anna was leaning in, wiggling eyebrows, and the rest of the table grew awfully quiet. You turned to see all the eyes on you.

« Who was bloody gorgeous ? » Santi inquired.

« My date. »

Everybody was listening, now. You motioned her to go ahead.

« Well, her yoga lessons came in handy, if you know what I mean but … yeah … _yoga. Pilates. Rabbit food. »_

« Well, you still got her to do some _yoga_ » you replied with a wink.

That got Anna to spit her drink.

« She was plenty good at _that,_ but, yeah. »

She shrugged and too a sip of her beer.

« Wait, _she ?_ »

So yeah, Santi hadn’t caught on the _Linda’s a lesbian_ train yet. Though to be fair, he’d seen her once, twice counting tonight.

« Got a problem with that ? » Linda asked.

You felt the tension roll off of her and you couldn’t blame her. You never really _knew_ how people were going to take your coming out, no matter how well you knew the person. And she didn’t know Santi at all.

He hurriedly shook his head.

« No, I just didn’t expect it, is all. »

He lit up, then, and you could almost see the _bad idea_ that came to his mind.

(Maybe you were starting to know him after all.)

« I could be your wingman, and you my wingwoman. »

« No _fucking way,_ Santiago. »

You laughed as you listened to Linda give a few more details, sweet Anna beaming in awe as the discussion went to Linda’s great adventures in dating.

« So, you’re a _serial dater_. » the younger woman exclaimed.

« She was never good at settling » you confirmed.

Linda turned to you and, with mock outrage, asked :

« Never good at settling ? Do those two years with you mean _nothing_ ? »

You laughed and she laughed and Anna laughed and Benny all but shrieked :

« You two _dated_??? »

That only made your belly clench even more, the laughter an unstoppable force, Linda warm by your side, Anna crying from laughter, Santi and his existential crisis because he’d hit on a _lesbian_ and suddenly everything made sense because nobody said no to Santiago - at least that was what your were feeling he was thinking. And Benny, just confused, said :

« I didn’t know you swung that way. »

The sentence was meant for you, you knew that, but before you could calm down, another voice, one you’d recognize anywhere, anytime, answered for you :

« Oh, she swings every fucking way, right, baby ? »

You turned around sharply and there he was, again, James. Right on time. He settled right next to you, his warmth a comforting presence. You swallowed the anxiety down. Everything would be alright.

And everything was.

Because fifteen minutes later, Jessie was coming in, Clara in her arms, wondering what the emergency Phil called about was. You would forever remember the look on her face when she saw her brother sitting right there. The blinding smile, the way James took Clara in his arms and _cooed._

It was going to be a _good_ night (again).

———

« That was real nice of you », Frankie mumbled. « What you did back there, with Jessie and her bother. »

You’d stepped out to have a smoke and he’d joined you, hands in pockets, just standing there, not close enough to touch you but close enough that you could _feel_ him.

« You two seem close », he stated after a bit.

That wasn’t jealousy. That you could tell.

« He’s my best friend, I guess. »

« He seems nice », Frankie stated. « A bit over the top but then again, I’m friends with Pope so … »

You had a flashback, then, of your first encounter with Benny, and asked :

« What’s with the nicknames anyway ? »

« We served … » Frankie started. You cut him off.

« Yeah, I know, but. What does it _mean_? »

Frankie just smiled, then, took a step closer to you, shoulders brushing. You felt _hot_ , all of a sudden.

« A callsign is _trust »_ he explained and then quietly added :

« _Starbuck_ »

You managed to keep it together. You kept it together because _paying consumers_. You kept it together because that man had a _daughter_ and was probably _married_ and what he’d just said was said out of _friendliness._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote this thing like 4 times but here we are. Just so we are clear, we are NOT about to have a lot triangle between OFC, Frankie, and random new character James. I just want OFC to have some wholesome relationships and to be her own person besides her new relationship with Frankie and the boys (which, btw, a writer, a friend of mine actually, told me "sometimes you write about what you can't have" and boy didn't that hurt because I'm currently in the process of grieving a friendship that could have been so good if not for the fact that we have very different ways of seeing friendship ... so I guess that James comes from that, a little). The former version had Frankie being more forward but I do like a slooooow burn and also it felt OOC.
> 
> Anyway, 
> 
> the song Sweet is by Porridge Radio.
> 
> The song Canción sin Miedo is by Vivir Quintana.
> 
> The French radio that only plays women, trans and NB people is a real thing : it's called Radio Tempête and I like it very much. Give it a try !


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get a text. You freak out.

The holidays came and went in a blur of laughter, hot chocolate was big sweaters. You were _happy._ And Jessie was happy too. January came, and went, too. Everything was slow. So you watched the movie you’d bought, and a bunch of others too.

February was over before you knew it, and when March warmed up the air, you found yourself, one morning, looking at the screen of your phone like the message would disappear if you blinked. You turned your eyes to the cupboard that contained the empty box of chocolate that sat there, hidden from the sniggering remarks of Linda, and looked back at the screen. The text message was still there. You put the phone down, abruptly, fingers tingling and burning and went to get a glass of water. Your eyes landed on the bottle of wine, still unopened, and you almost spilled your drink. You went back to your phone in a hurry, opened the chat you shared with your friends and sent

_Who the fuck gave Francisco fucking Morales my phone number ?????_

You waited, breathing hard, hoping _anyone_ would answer. Nothing came, not right away. Phone on the table again, you slumped on the couch, nervous breakdown on its way. _You couldn’t do it, there was no way you could do that, you couldn’t, that would kill you, you wouldn’t survive this._

Time floated for a while, up until your phone vibrated and you _jumped._ You’d been so caught up in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed everyone had answer, Anna, Jessie and Linda with a simple « not me » but James …

James had sent a

_Go get some_

And an eggplant emoji.

James, then.

Okay.

_Okay._

You were fine. You could answer a text. You knew the drill, by now. You knew how to pretend you were not freaking out every time Frankie did something unexpected and kind, like that time he offered you chocolate and a bottle of wine for Christmas. You had _coping mechanisms,_ now, to hide the fact you had a doctorate in yearning.

You’d replayed the _Christmas Scene_ so many times in your head you sometimes thought you made it up, but the reminders were there, in your flat.

You’re replaying it now.

You’re getting out of your car, with ten minutes to spare before work starts. It’s almost six. You spot Frankie’s truck on the parking lot and you’re a bit surprised but mostly delighted, even more so when you see the man himself jogging towards you. It takes you a minute to see he’s holding presents. By the time he gets to you, you’re confused. He smiles a breathy hello before handing you what he’s got in his hands. You stare at the neatly wrapped packages for a bit, like the dumbass you are, unable to put two and two together. Maybe it’s for Clara ?

It must be for Clara.

You take them. Say thank you. And Frankie answers :

« Open them. »

Your braincells must have left the building like God in _Supernatural,_ gone off to do the Macarena dance somewhere very far away because all you can answer is _what_ and you know you sound like a _dumbass_ and you feel like one too.

The lack of reaction is getting to Frankie, you can tell, because he’s rubbing the back of his neck and you feel bad that he’s embarrassed so you say :

« You got me _presents_ ? »

Well, except you don’t really say it. More squeal it. Or shriek it. You’re not sure. It feels like a repeat of that moment a boy you’d liked but never made a move on offered you fucking _cheese_ on your birthday and was all embarrassed about it and you didn’t know what to do or say because his birthday had been a few days before yours and you didn’t get him anything.

You add, for good measure, because why the hell not :

« But I didn’t get you anything. »

Like maybe he’s going to take them back, or maybe the moment is going to rewind except you _don’t want it to rewind_ because _Frankie has gifts for you, just for you._

Maybe he got something for Jessie and Anna, too ? You wonder. And Linda. You know he goes there to buy books. Maybe he showed up and got her some stuff. Not books, you hope. Stupid to buy books to a bookseller.

All of this goes through your mind and in the meanwhile Frankie’s waiting and when you finally put your bag down on the hood of your car to carefully open the first present, your body _finally_ moving, you don’t miss the sigh of relief that escapes Frankie. It’s a box of chocolate, a fancy one at that. You recognize the brand. You hold it for a while, before you set it down with your bag and say _thank you_ in a voice that’s way too small. You open the second one, then. Wine. White wine. Wine that you actually _love._ Your favorite. You wonder how he knows that.

You’re holding the bottle the way he’s holding his breath : tight. You lift your eyes to meet his and you can tell he’s embarrassed and a bit _blushing._ He rearranges the cap on his head and announces :

« Merry Christmas. »

You say it back, smile so big your cheeks hurt because _Frankie got you presents for Christmas._ You put the bottle with the rest of your stuff and then, on a whim, you _throw_ yourself at him for a hug. He closes his arms around you, and one hand comes up right between your shoulder-blades, his thumb just _here,_ sitting on the back of your neck, _skin against skin_ and maybe you’re dead and in heaven right now.

You stay like this way too long and at some point you mumble against his shoulder that you really didn’t get him anything.

« It’s fine », he answers as he lets go, hands squeezing your side briefly.

You get into work late.

And now, you got a text. You opened it, read it again.

Maybe you could do this. Maybe you could take it to the next level. After all, you’d became closer to the boys over the last two months. Santi could have sent you that text, right ? That text didn’t have the word _date_ in it. Maybe you were _friends_ now. Frankie’d gotten you Christmas presents, after all.

So you read the words again, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you sent a _yeah, sure, I’m in !_

Your eyes went over his message once again, just to make sure the words would be _burnt into your brain._

_Hey, it’s Frankie. I know Friday’s your day off this week. I got two tickets to that new Marvel movie and one with your name on it. You in ?_

You _could_ spend two hours in a dark room with Francisco Morales right next to you. No problem. None at all.

———

He’d picked a screening that ended around seven. Your mind supplied _just in time for dinner,_ and you kicked the two remaining braincells you had. You’d decided to drive there separately and were now sitting next to each other, you explaining the Marvel timeline and him listening intently. You were a nerd, but, him, not as much. You didn’t try to think too hard about the fact that he was doing this for you, because he was _not_ as much into comics or movies as you were.

The whole thing was pleasant and relaxed.

_This was not a date,_ you reminded yourself.

You got dinner after that, dissecting the movie as you ate - nothing fancy, but it was nice. The conversation shifted, at some point.

« Yeah, I get what you mean : movies are not the place to make a move. Especially when there’s a hot guy on the screen. I mean, what chance do you get when you’re watching a movie and Oscar Isaac is _right there_? » Frankie laughed.

You nodded, getting another sip of your drink, and, as an afterthought, added :

« You know, Santi _kinda_ looks like Oscar Isaac … »

Frankie grunted :

« Never, _ever_ , tell him that. »

You promised you wouldn’t. After that, the two of you told each other stories about your worst dates, and you remembered :

« You know, when I was younger, before I met James, I hung out with a bunch of guys. I was like, fourteen, and they were sort of … beginning to understand I was a girl, you know. There was this guy, a good friend of mine, who actually told this other guy we _weren’t_ going to see a movie. I remember, it was a special screening of _Edward Scissorshands._ So, my other friend never showed up and the guy told me he couldn’t make it. »

« Let me guess, the other guy told you later he thought you weren’t going ? »

You laughed.

« Yeah, basically. And _then_ this guy I went to see the movie with invited me to a really fancy thing. It was a Wednesday afternoon, I remember. We got lunch. I didn’t pay for anything because he’d invited to come along with him and his _grandma._ Let me tell you : after that, I made sure to _always_ have someone with us when he invited me somewhere. »

Frankie’s laugh was something you’d never grew tired of, you knew that.

———

Months went on, like that, with you and Frankie hanging out to see movies, and everybody showing up for Benny’s fight when you could (Jessie and you had to keep James updated, those nights, because he’d gone back to Washington after new year’s eve but wanted to know _everything_ ). Jessie had started dating a guy, at some point, and you didn’t find him that great but Will _hated_ him.

« When are you gonna make a move ? » You asked, one evening as you were sipping beers with him at his place.

« When she doesn’t have a boyfriend dull as dishwater » He answered without missing a beat.

You knew this was the moment, then. You had two options : say nothing and let things be, or say something and get those idiots together. You thought hard, about the phrasing of your next sentence, and settled with :

« For you, she’d dump him. »

Will froze at that, just for a second, and quipped back :

« I’ll make a move when you make a move on ‘Fish. »

So _that_ conversation was happening. You’d hoped none of the guys had noticed but obviously, at least one of them had. And you knew, by now, that his ex-wife had left him, had left Maria too. You knew he was _available._ You sputtered a bit and Will, _kind_ Will, let it be. You enjoyed a nice evening with him, not once wondering why he sought you out, because Will and you didn’t hang out.

The answer came a few days later, with a simple text from Frankie.

_Come over please_

———

« I need you to take care of Maria », Frankie said as he opened the door. He looked really tired, like he hadn’t slept in days.

_Please_ , he added, begging but you didn’t quite understand what he was begging for.

You complied, never stopping to think that this was the first time you saw Maria, never stopping to think about what might be possibly happening, even as Frankie went to his room, muttering apologies. It hit you when you put the girl to bed, and you remembered Frankie and the way he’d been looking at you that day, when he’d asked if they could throw a birthday party for their late friend’s daughter.

It was around that time, last year.

You walked hesitantly towards Frankie’s bedroom and stared at the white paint in it for a while. You were nervous, and actually turned around to smoke a cigarette outside, the air a bit too chilly for you, but cold enough to wake you up and give you the strength to walk to Frankie’s bedroom and knock.

So you did it.

He didn’t answer, but, feeling bold - or rather, feeling like you _needed_ to do it - you opened the door anyway. The room was almost dark, the moonlight giving you an idea that Frankie was curled up, on his side. You put a hand on his shoulder. He put his on top of yours. You chose - you _chose_ \- to take it at a silent invitation, lifted the covers, and got, fully dressed, right next to him. Because friends do that.

———

When you woke up, he was staring at you. While your brain tried to make sense of the situation, you asked, voice heavy with sleep :

« What time is it ? »

Seven, Frankie answered. _Maria’s gonna wake up soon_ , he added. You were too tired to say anything else, because when you’d laid down next to him you’d felt like your heart had been about to burst so you’d just listened to him, his breath steadying as he’d got to sleep. You’d finally got to sleep too, but it was t _oo damn early_ for you.

Later, you’d blame what happened on your foggy brain : you snuggled closer, and Frankie let you. Then, it hit you. At that moment, right next to him, it hit you : you were not friends with him. You were _pretending_ to be, but you were not and never would.

You _couldn’t._

You wanted to wake up everyday like that, to Frankie telling you _it’s seven, Maria’s gonna be awake soon._ You wanted _everything_ and _friends_ just wouldn’t cut it.

Two things happened at once, then : you were realizing how much you liked - _loved_ \- Frankie when he gently took one of your forearm and brought it to his lips. All of the feelings hit home just as he was kissing the soft skin on your wrist and you _froze._

He saw it and let go immediately, muttering apologies, while you were still _processing_ what you felt about him. When you reached to grab him, to tell him how _good_ that was and how wanted him to do it again, it was already too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very very soft for Frankie. 
> 
> Also, I have a few days off and I have been really self-indulgent so : the cheese gift really happened to me (best birthday ever, he got me a Mont d'Or because he knew I had planned on eating one with my best friend to celebrate), the Edward Scissorchands movie thing really happened to me, and the "date" with the grandma too. In France, the Opera is often showed in movie theaters. When I was a teenager, I thought it was quite the event, though. So I got invited. Next thing we saw together with that guy was the movie Black Swan and I made sure someone was tagged along.


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